I called one of my dearest friends recently to see how she is doing. (She’s under the 1-year mark in her parenting sentence career, so she still needs her sponsor on a regular basis.) I got through the “hehhhh, just calling to see how things arrrrrre,” and a brief description of the latest happenings in the Embee household–important things like how Mr. Embee is installing a new light fixture in our garage and has not electrocuted himself even once!–and was just moving on to answering a question from her last phone message to me when the Voice Mail Satisfaction Lady broke in:
“If you are satisfied with your message, press 1. To re-record your message, press 2.”
I hate the Voicemail Satisfaction Lady. How am I supposed to keep up my relationships with her cutting me off all the time? VMS Lady clearly doesn’t have children, or baby microchips or whatever. She needs to realize that moms don’t ever get to actually talk on the phone–we just leave messages back and forth. When we do, very rarely, have actual conversations, one mom is always dealing with a child. Always. After all the snot wiping and cooking with one hand and pulling toddlers away from ledges, we get off the phone and have no idea what we talked to our mom-friend about.
And my big alternative to being satisfied is to re-record? Please, like I can remember what I just said and do it over again: part of the reason the message was too long was that I was spewing out stream of consciousness. The same woman cut Sally off when she wanted to call her aunt about a major achievement:
“Auntie M, I’m a big kid now! I–” “If you are satisfied with your message, press 1.”
“Mommy, who IS dat?”
So in these situations my favorite thing to do is call back: “Hey, your voicemail totally cut me off, so I just wanted to call you back and let you know that I really, really don’t think that you–” “If you are satisfied…”
Then I slam my cell phone down, which is incredibly unfulfilling. Then I pick it up again to make sure I didn’t break it because seriously, I’d go into convulsions if I lost that thing, and then I would be having a seizure with no way to call 911. I think that would be ironic but honestly, I’m never sure of that term anymore. Thanks for that, Alanis.
Okay, I’m satisfied now.